


Off Like a Shot

by somebetterwords



Series: The Shots Verse [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6876979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebetterwords/pseuds/somebetterwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ridiculously self-indulgent pile of fluff and the like. Directly follows the events of A Shot In the Arm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Remember how I said I’d be writing a sequel and/or prequel to [A Taste For Murder (And For Sex)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4651296) just as soon as I was done with A Shot In the Arm? Lmao that didn’t happen! Nope, instead I’m happy to share with you the next instalment of what I’m calling _**The Shots Verse**_. And it only took me six months to get back in the swing of things! ~~Please note that I’m making this story up as I go even more than I did when writing its predecessor.~~

“Kurt, you okay, there? Why are you fidgeting so much?”

The entire booth turned their attention to Kurt after hearing Sam’s concern. Kurt stilled his movements and tried his best not to look like a deer in headlights. “No reason,” he said, lips pursing when he realized how squeaky his voice sounded. But then, his voice was always high, so maybe it would go unnoticed. “Just got a case of ants in the pants, y’know how it is.”

“That happened to me once,” Brittany said, nodding in understanding. “I forgot I had a candy bar in my jeans pocket and left them on the grass while I went swimming. It was super itchy.”

Sam ignored her, gaze still trained on Kurt. “Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re having a real hard time sitting.”

Tina gasped, bouncing in her seat and with a sparkle in her eye like Christmas had come early. “Kurt,” she whispered conspiratorially, leaning over the table like it would make her words any more private despite the two of them being seated on opposite ends of the booth. “Are you wearing a plug right now?”

Kurt’s jaw went slack and his entire body snapped back in shock, hitting the back of the booth with a thud. “No, Tina!” He shook his head forcefully, hoping to expel the memory of her ever speaking those words to him from his brain. It did not work. “I am not wearing a  _plug_  after my first intimate encounter with a new man. Who  _does_  that? Why would you think that?”

Tina shrugged, clearly unbothered by her own inappropriateness, and it was moments like this one that made Kurt wonder what the hell had happened to her after he graduated. She hadn’t always been like this under the shyness, had she? “Well, your ‘new man’ made it perfectly clear that he fucked you last night. It’s not like it would have been a stretch, if you get what I’m saying.”

“I understood your innuendo, yes. You’re not nearly as subtle you think you are.”

“You guys,” Puck interrupted. “He’s squirming because he has a hickey on his ass and it hurts to apply pressure,” he explained patiently, like he was talking to a group of kindergarteners.

“How the fuck did you realize that?” Kurt’s hands flew down to the waistband of his pants (Sebastian’s pants) to make sure it was still snug above his hips. It was actually the stubble burn that was irritating him more than anything, but how did Puck know about the bite down there?

“He knows his hickeys,” Quinn reminded him, more concerned with slathering a complimentary breadstick with melted garlic butter than she was with the conversation at hand. Still, she dropped the finished breadstick on his plate before offering a comforting pat on his hand, like she was apologizing for her worse half.

“Hell yeah I do!” Puck slammed a hand down on the table, hard enough to make all their dishes clatter. “My boy got his ass ate last night!” He announced with a grin and a booming shout that could probably heard in the kitchens. He slapped Kurt’s back in congratulation, hard enough to knock some wind out of his chest. “Proud of you!”

“Oh my god,” Kurt screeched. “This is a family restaurant, Puck!”

“You see this?” Santana pointed one of her talons at Puck, waving it up and down. “This right here? This is exactly what the meerkat was talking about when he was questioning the heterosexuality of the glee boys at large.”

“Whatever,” Puck dismissed airily. “I’m just glad he finally got laid. The only way to get the stick out of Hummel’s ass is to replace it with a bigger one and I was about ready to get the job done myself.”

“You just made yourself sound even gayer!”

“Family! Restaurant!” Before today, Kurt had been certain he would never be able to hit whistle register in his life. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

“So what will everyone be having for their entrées?” Kurt could kiss Rachel for her attempt at redirecting the conversation. “I will… as always… be having the meatless meatballs, since corporate just keeps sending me gift cards instead of  _listening_  when I send letters requesting more than one vegan option.” She smiled wide, but it looked fractured.  _Understandable_ , Kurt thought,  _considering how many times in her life she’s had no choice but to eat those damn meatballs. They're the worst thing on the menu._

He mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her and let the table turn to discussing what they would be having— like it really made a difference. Everyone would share everything, as always— as he pulled out his phone to check the message that had just come in.

 **From: Bastian**   

> I bet my Italian food is better than yours.

His phone vibrated again, this time with a picture of Sebastian, smiling wide enough to make the skin around his eyes crinkle. He had a plate of greasy pepperoni pizza in front of him, and he was clearly in the same cafeteria they had eaten lunch in.

 **From: Bastian**  

> Because I checked your place’s Yelp rating and I’ve never seen so much anger concentrated on one page on the internet. And I have seen some DARK corners of 4chan.

Kurt chuckled quietly and picked up the breadstick on his plate, letting one end rest against his bottom lip and snapping a picture of himself to send in reply.

 **To: Bastian**  

> Our appetizers aren’t even at the table yet but you’re already wrong.

**From: Bastian**  

> Your face is the only appealing thing in that picture

**From: Bastian**  

> Is that thing bread or cardboard?

**From: Bastian**

> Be honest with me. Are you actually having dinner right now, or did you book an ad to model for those embarrassing stock photos that people use for reaction pics? Are you going to be spending the rest of the night pretending to laugh with salad?

Kurt let out a giggle of amusement and wiped his fingers of oil from the butter, so he could text with both hands. Distantly, he was aware that the din of their booth had quieted down a bit, but it was hardly a cause for concern. Volume levels rose and fell during group outings like this one.

**To: Bastian**

> If I had booked a modelling/advertising gig of ANY kind, I would be shouting it from the rooftops. Work is work is work. There are no small parts, only unemployed entertainers.

**To: Bastian**  

> And those people on Yelp didn't know what they were doing. When you come to Breadstix, you’ll be here with me! =D I promise will protect your delicate palate from this place’s duds.

**From: Bastian**  

> Nope. Sorry, babe, but I’m gonna have to give your beloved Faux-live Garden a hard pass. I will be skipping out on this supposed Ohio institution. I know a really good Italian restaurant run by actual Italian people in Findlay that we can go to instead.

**To: Bastian**

> Nope. Sorry, babe, but the day WILL come that I take you on a classic Breadstix date night. I have picked my prize and this is it. The only question now is when I will collect.

**From: Bastian**  

> Seriously? THIS is what you want for your prize. I wasn’t lying when I said I could get you an apartment in soho.

**To: Bastian**  

> Yep! Mostly to annoy you tbh

**From: Bastian**

> Fuck you tbh

**To: Bastian**  

> You probably will ;)

“Whoa!”

Kurt bodily jolted back to awareness of his surroundings. Then he turned to glare up at Sam, who was looming over him and clearly reading the conversation as it happened. Kurt turned to his other side, and sure enough, Puck was reading over his shoulder. And judging by how Quinn was snapping back into proper sitting position after being caught leaning over Puck’s lap a few seconds ago, even  _she_  had been snooping. And Quinn Fabray very rarely gave a fuck about things she wasn’t directly involved in. It was an admirable quality that Kurt was a little jealous of sometimes.

Kurt flipped his phone face down and went back to glaring at Sam until the boy walked back to his side of the booth and sat back down, then widened the scope of his glower. “I know you know that what you guys just did was unacceptable. Any reason you had to ignore common courtesy and follow along with my  _private_  conversation?”

“You were totally checked out, dude. We just wanted to see what had your attention.” Puck shrugged. He knocked their shoulders together, and it was still, after all these years, shocking how gently he did it now compared to the shoulder checks that used to knock Kurt into lockers. “We probably won’t be seeing you again until those two get married,” he said, nodding his chin at Santana and Brittany. “So maybe put the phone away for a bit? We’re only gonna get so many chances to have so many of us in one place, y’know?”

Kurt sighed heavily but nodded, flipping his phone over to send one last message before slipping his cell back into his pocket.

**From: Bastian**

> ???

**To: Bastian**  

> I’ll tell you when I get home, phone’s off for dinner time. Talk soon! xx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian's name on Kurt's phone is actually "Bastian [smirking face] [face throwing a kiss] [eggplant]"  
> For this and other emojis, please check this chapter out on [Tumblr!](http://somebetterwords.tumblr.com/post/144481768424/off-like-a-shot-1)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Directions are not a Waltons kind of family. They say and think unkind things about one another. Their opinions are not necessarily those of the author.
> 
> Read/reblog on [Tumbr.](http://somebetterwords.tumblr.com/post/144925932789/off-like-a-shot-2)

For an admirable length of time, Sebastian wasn’t brought up again. Even when Kurt ordered the penne with Italian sausage, the jokes around the table were the generic, ‘he sure does love his sausage’ type, which he would have expected no matter what.

It was only after most of the group was finished with entrées and debating whether they would go for dessert— Sandy had already left them with the split bill, because she already knew how things would probably go— that Sam suddenly dropped his fork with a clang and pushed his near empty plate away. “Okay,” he said, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “I tried real hard to keep my mouth shut, but I just can’t anymore.” He crossed his arms and placed them on the table, leaning his weight on them. Sam’s brows were furrowed, his mouth set in a frown. “What the hell, Kurt? You’re not really planning to sleep with that guy again, are you?”

Kurt raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, Ice Queen Mode initiated when he heard the judgement dripping from Sam’s words. “Well, not right away, but yes. I do plan to sleep with _Sebastian_ again.”

“Wait, why not right away? You enjoyed yourself last night, right?”

Kurt turned to Puck, disposition instantly warmer for a friend who only spoke with genuine consternation. “I did, I definitely did. It was pretty much the best time I’ve had in months. I just think it would be healthiest for both of us to take things slow first, until we get our bearings. So we’re gonna hold off on the sex for a little while.”

He heard a snort of poorly concealed laughter and looked past Puck and Quinn so he could squint suspiciously at Rachel. She fiddled determinedly at what was left of her awful meatballs rather than look him in the eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s what supposed to mean?” She asked, face set into her _I’m an innocent, wide-eyed ingenue who doesn’t mean any trouble and is definitely not lying at all, REALLY_ face.

“That snort, Rachel. What does that snort mean? There were insinuations in that snort.”

Rachel bit her lip before visibly giving up the act. “Well, it’s just— I understand your intentions, Kurt, and this isn’t meant to be a slight, truly! But… I don’t think you’re being realistic, here.”

“How am I being unrealistic?”

Rachel opened her mouth to respond, no doubt earnestly, when Sam cut her off. “You’re being unrealistic if you think a guy like him will keep it in his pants and wait around for you to be ready to take off yours. Especially when you put out once already.”

“No!” Rachel objected, eyes bugging out in shock. “No, that’s not what I was going to say _at all_ , Kurt, believe me!”

“Well, then I’ll say it,” Sam said with a shrug. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s a bad guy and you can’t trust him to stay faithful.”

“Oh, is that so, Guppy Lips?” Santana responded before Kurt got a chance to. “Then please, enlighten us as to who exactly Kurt can trust. Because I dunno if you remember, but he dated a so-called good guy and said good guy did a _shit_ job on the staying faithful front. Now, Smythe’s been texting Kurt the entire time they’ve been out of each other’s sight, so I think it’s safe to say that Chipmunk’s made it a whole day without running around on Chipette. That already brings him nearly halfway to meeting Blaine’s record!” She plastered a grin on her face and clapped her hands in mock excitement before returning to her previous expression of disdain. “I get it that _you_ decided you weren't willing and able to stay celibate for a radiant queen like Mercedes Jones— which, by the way, was an unbelievably stupid decision on your part, because she is well worth the wait— but that doesn’t mean Prepster can’t do it for a radiant queen like Kurt Hummel; even when he was evil, he was never dumb, and ruining things with someone as great as Kurt would be fucking moronic. So here’s what I suggest you do: go to the nearest Goodwill, purchase a sturdy pair of jeans in the largest size you can find, take out the fly, and surgically attach it to the seam of your lips so you can zip that bizarrely sized mouth of yours shut.”

“Santana,” Tina chastised, in that quiet way people had when they were trying to slow down an Auntie Snix tirade without getting caught in the line of fire themselves. “Sam is only speaking out of concern.”

“Concern for his BFF who doesn't know how to function unless he’s someone’s boyfriend, will inevitably break up with the one he’s got, and could quite possibly lose his fallback? Yeah, I’d be concerned too. That isn’t Kurt’s problem though.”

“Blaine knows how to function without being someone’s boyfriend,” Tina protested. “He did it for _months_ when Kurt kept him dangling!”

“I thought he was dating Sam when that happened,” Brittany said softly.

“What? No,” Sam said with a shake of his head. “I was dating _you_ , Brittany.”

Brittany cocked her head to the side and scrunched her nose at him. “Are you sure? I feel like you and Blaine were at least kinda dating.”

“Well, they _weren’t_ ,” Tina snapped. “Try to keep the fuck up for once in your life.”

_Wow, that is the **diametrical opposite** of the sort of thing one says when trying to avoid the wrath of Auntie Snix._

The air at their table dropped a few degrees, and Kurt wasn’t the only one whose breath hitched in anticipation and fear.

Tina, to her credit, rushed out an apology before Santana had the chance to rip into her. “Shit, I’m sorry, Britt. I didn’t— That was out of line. I apologize.” Her eyes flickered over to Santana, then back to Brittany. “Sorry.”

Brittany blinked, slowly, twice, before a wide grin made its way to her face and her eyes sparkled. “I just remembered! Blaine _wanted_ to date Sam and you _wanted_ to date Blaine and both of you were really sad and hopeless and pathetic for a really long time. My bad.”

Tina smiled back. Or rather, she tried to. It looked more like a grimace.

Kurt’s friendship with Brittany was going on five years old. He’d known the girl, been friend _ly_ with her since they were both children attending Lima’s lone dance academy, but he had only truly become friends with her through glee club. And even after five years, he _still_ wasn’t sure whether she was a bowl of Froot Loops without the milk, or an evil genius putting on airs of empty-headedness to better conceal her machinations. Tonight he was leaning towards the latter.

“God,” Sam huffed. “Can we stop talking about freaky weird high school crushes, already!”

“Why?” Kurt crossed his legs under the table, hands clasped over his knee, and lifted his chin defiantly. “You want to go back to talking about my dating life as if it’s any of your damn business, Sam?”

“It is my business! Blaine is my best friend and he _loves you_ , Kurt, and you love him back! So when I see you acting like a giggling school girl over someone else less than two weeks after you promised you would do anything to get him back, it is my business. I thought you guys were soulmates. Soulmates are supposed to fight for each other. So why the hell aren’t you fighting?”

Kurt could see Santana gearing up to answer, and he appreciated her more than she would ever know, but he caught her eye and gave a minute shake of the head to let her know that he could handle himself.

“Sam,” Kurt began, voice deliberately light and airy. He brought his hands back up, so he could hold his glass of iced tea and twirl the straw around. “I know that Blaine is your best friend, but the way I remember things, you were my friend first. And I’m not saying that in an attempt to make you feel guilty for having his best interests at heart or anything like that, so we’re clear. I don’t think there’s ever been a breakup in the glee club that left people picking sides, and even if we were to start with this one, I still would never resent you picking him. I’m glad he has you, because God knows he needed a friendship with actual substance like you guys have now. I’m just saying, for all that I was too girly and flamboyant and different for you and I to be bros, we _were_ friends. We were friends before you met Blaine, and long before you liked him. I did everything in my power to help you and your family when you were struggling, and you put your neck on the line to try and protect me when I was being harassed. Even if we didn’t get each other, we respected each other.” Kurt sighed breathily and let his voice return to its natural timbre. “So it hurts that you think so little of me as to believe I would throw my morals and dignity out the window and chase someone who is happily taken. And it makes me think a whole lot less of you to find out that you believe I _should_.”

Kurt picked up his glass and drained the last dregs of tea before sliding out of the booth and standing straight and proud. “When you love someone, you want them to be happy,” he said conversationally as he fished his wallet out of his borrowed pants. “I love Blaine, and he’s happier now than he was when we were together, so I’m not going to do anything to damage what he has with Karofsky. But more than that, I love myself. And you said it yourself, I’m giggling like a schoolboy over Sebastian; I think that’s a pretty strong indication of happiness.” He took out enough money to cover his bill and a tip, dropping his wallet back into his pocket and looking Sam in the eye. “It _really_ isn’t your business, but I am fighting. I’m fighting for myself.”

Then Kurt tossed his money onto the table, turned on his heel, and took long strides towards the door. Not the most dramatic exit he’d made in his life, but smooth and confident and impactful enough to leave him feeling pleased with himself.

Or it would have been, if it hadn’t been for an ‘oof’ and the thud of a body hitting the floor sounding behind him. Kurt whipped back around, his feet carrying him forward again when he saw Puck splayed out on the floor. Kurt helped him back up just as Quinn was shoved out of the booth too, her reflexes fast enough to keep her on her feet.

“You don’t need to push, Santana!” Rachel squawked as she scooted across the newly empty seats and stumbled upright. She smoothed down her clothes with a huff and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You’re freakishly strong. We get it. I was getting up anyway,” she said, stepping over to Kurt's side and linking their arms together.

“Well, none of you were moving fast enough,” Santana replied, sliding out at a leisurely pace. “They opened up a new fro-yo place across the street from T. J. Maxx,” she announced. “We’re checking it out now. No ‘buts’ allowed, no bitch ass party poopers invited.” Without waiting for confirmation and without another glance, she flounced out the restaurant and to her car.

“Guess we’re riding with you this time, Hummel,” Puck said, clapping Kurt on the shoulder while Quinn settled up their combined tab. “Dibs on shotgun!” And then he made a run out the door, as if anyone was going to fight him for the spot.

“Idiot,” Quinn muttered fondly. “You coming, Brittany?”

“No, I’m gonna to Tina’s to help her pack. I kick ass at spatial geometry.”

“All right then,” Quinn agreed with a shrug, turning to Kurt and Rachel.

“I’m gonna use my card, Quinn, we’ll meet you outside,” Rachel chirped, dragging Kurt to the front register with her.

Kurt leaned against the counter as Rachel paid up, snatching a handful of after dinner mints to stick in his jacket pocket while no one was looking. “So,” he said, popping another in his mouth as they made their way out the door. “Why the snort?”

“What snort?”

“ _Rachel_.”

“Okay, fine!” Rachel released her hold on Kurt’s elbow and took a step away, stopping before they were within earshot of anyone. “Kurt, you know I love you, and I think the world of you. I firmly believe you can do almost anything you set your mind to. I’ve already saved a few domain names for when you inevitably become a big star in need of his own officially endorsed fan club and street team. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, Rach, I know,” he reassured.

“Good,” she said with a smile. She clasped her hands together and fiddled her thumbs for a moment before she took a deep breath. “Don’t be mad, but you’re deluded if you think you have a snowball’s chance in hell at being able to hold off on the sex.”

Kurt let out a scandalized gasp, one hand flying up to cover his mouth.

“I’m sorry Kurt, but you know it’s true!”

“I’m not some kind of sex addict!”

“I didn’t say you were,” she soothed. “But I lived with you, Kurt, and we had no walls, so I know how you get.”

“That sounds a lot like you calling me a sex addict.”

“Well, it isn’t.” She took his hands in her own and rubbed her thumbs over his knuckles. “You are at your best when you get physical intimacy— even just holding a friend’s hand like you are right now— and you spent a lot of your life not getting as much as you should. So when you want someone, you’re going to want to be intimate with him in that way. I know that it scares you, how sometimes sex means more and sometimes it doesn’t. But the thing is, Kurt, is that you are just about the bravest man I know, so maybe you should face your fears head on. Make your motivations known. _Talk_ about it, Kurt.”

Kurt blushed and turned away, pointedly refusing to maintain eye contact.

Rachel took hold of his chin and turned his head to face her again. “You have nothing to be ashamed of,” she told him. “And if you find that taking things slow doesn’t work out for you, then that’s nothing to be ashamed of either, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Rachel smiled again and patted his cheek before starting them towards their cars.

“You seem surprisingly okay with me dating a _notorious libertine_ ,” Kurt noted with a teasing smile.

“Well, who am I to deny the allure of a bad boy?” Rachel asked, grinning cheekily. “Do you think they’ll have dairy free yogurt?”

“I’m doubtful.”

“I figured,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll make a fruit salad out of toppings.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These assholes talk so goddamn much, I s2g.
> 
> Read/reblog on [Tumblr.](http://somebetterwords.tumblr.com/post/145386101714/off-like-a-shot-3)

Because Kurt was cool as a cucumber, he didn’t check his texts first thing when he got home for the night. He checked the mail, brought the trash bin back in from the curb, started a load of laundry, swept the (already spic and span) floors, and did a quick tidy-up of the living room and kitchen. Because he hadn’t forgotten his promise to himself to go back to doing regular workouts, he changed into sweats and filled himself a water bottle before heading down to the basement where the Hummels kept their home gym.  _Then_  he checked his texts.

**From: Bastian**

> I’m mad at u.

Kurt frowned in confusion and sprawled out on the daybed, content to give his phone his full attention again. He and Sebastian had discussed their schedules for the day, and all Sebastian had really had on his docket was a single lecture, an intramural basketball game (except not  _really_  an intramural game, since the season hadn’t started. Just a group of friends who booked a gym), and nebulous hangout time with his teammates. Kurt had no idea what  _he_  could have done to draw any ire.

**To: Bastian**

> What did I do?

**From: Bastian**

> My team won tonight and I was pretty much the MVP of the game, so I got to suggest what we do for chill time after. And you know what I said? “I could really go for a karaoke night, you guys!” And everyone agreed! These fuckers couldn’t carry a tune if I gave them a bucket with rubber comfort grips. &\+ I drove here, so I can’t even drink until they sound okay unless I’m willing to spend several more hrs with this caterwauling.

**To: Bastian**

> How is any of that my fault???

**From: Bastian**

> I spend ONE day with you and suddenly I wanna find the nearest stage and jukebox? Clearly your sing songiness rubbed off while we were rubbing off.

**To: Bastian**  

> Bitch please, you overthrew the warblers council so you could become their uncontested lead soloist before you even met me!

**From: Bastian**

> Yeah ok but I did that because I love being on top of the social ladder, not because I love singing. And FYI I was still in the process of doing it when I met you.

**To: Bastian**

> Are you actually mad at me or just grumpy because your friends are hurting your ears?

Kurt smirked in victory when Sebastian went a full minute without responding.

**To: Bastian**

> Because you know I didn’t make it into the best vocal conservatory in the country for nothing. So if you want to sing with someone who knows what they’re doing, I’d be more than happy to make a night out of it with you. And I have SingStar too, if you wanted to have a night in instead.

**From: Bastian**

> You still free tomorrow?

**To: Bastian**  

> I’m going shopping with Santana in the evening. Nothing else, though!

Instead of buzzing with another message, Kurt’s phone rang. He accepted the call quickly and sat up to talk.

“The same Santana who reamed you out the day before yesterday?” Sebastian was shouting, and Kurt knew it wasn’t just because he was calling from a noisy bar where some stranger was butchering Tell Her About It.

“Hello to you too, Sebastian. My day was lovely, and yours?”

“Don’t tell me you forgave her already.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

“Kurt!”

“She apologized! We had a big dramatic moment about it. Tears and hugging and everything.” Kurt heard a heavy huff on the other end of the line and squeezed his leg to his chest, tucking his knee under his chest. “Bastian, come on, please don’t be angry at her on my behalf.”

“It’s no trouble on my part!” A heavy thud, and suddenly the background noise was gone. Kurt assumed Sebastian had stepped outside so they could talk comfortably. “I know you said you can’t hold a grudge to save your life, but you  _know_  she at least deserved to be frozen out for a few days. She has to understand that she can’t treat you that way. And I don’t just mean chewing you out.”

“She understands. She told me she’s gonna be here for me from now on and she’s already walked the walk,” Kurt said, voice soft and soothing. “I actually think you  _really_  got to her with that text. Thank you by the way, for defending me like that.”

“Anytime, babe,” he replied. They were quiet for a moment, content to listen to each other’s breathing, before Sebastian spoke again. “So how was your day?”

Kurt let out a small chuckle and relaxed again, repositioning himself to sit cross-legged with his back against the wall. “It was lovely, thank you for asking. Breadstix was delicious in its awful Breadstix way.”

“You plan on telling me what ‘you probably will, winky face’ means now?”

“You’re a worldly young gentleman, Sebastian. I think you can figure it out.”

“But I wanna hear  _you_  say it,” he teased.

“No.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Say it.”

“No!”

“I am the youngest of five children, Kurt. I could literally keep this up for hours.”

“ _Five_  children? Are your parents quiver full or something?”

Sebastian barked out a loud laugh and Kurt felt a smile take over his face at the sound. “Oh man, imagine my gay heathen ass being raised by evangelicals.” He let out a happy little sigh and Kurt could just picture him shaking his head in amusement. “No, my parents just  _really_  wanted a girl.”

“And they didn’t get  _one_  after five tries?” Kurt gasped. “Those poor souls! What are the chances of that happening?”

“One in… thirty-two,” Sebastian answered easily. “That’s not what happened though. They had three sons before they  _finally_  got Mia on the fourth try, and then I happened nine years later.”

“Nine years, huh? It wasn’t enough for you to be a ‘we thought we were done but nope, one more’ kind of oopsie baby; you had wait to nearly a decade just to blindside ‘em even harder. So  _dramatic_ , Sebastian! I live for it.”

“Wow, you really don’t beat around the bush, do you, sweetheart? Story goes that when my parents found out about Mia, Dad drove my mom to the jewelry store and bought a diamond the size of a baby’s fist because that was gonna be her birthstone. When they found out about me, Mom drove my dad to get a vasectomy.”

Kurt couldn’t contain his laughter, only stopping when Sebastian whined his name in protest. “Sorry! I’m sorry. I’m sure you were a welcome blessing in the family home, unexpected though you were.”

“Hell yeah, I was,” Sebastian agreed. “Now back to Breadstix.”

Kurt groaned heavily and pressed his cold water bottle to his cheek, trying to stave off his blush even if there was no one there to see it. “Why do you enjoy my suffering?”

“Because it nourishes my soul to think about how red you must be right now.”

For a split second, Kurt seriously considered checking his house for surveillance equipment. He had debugged the place before moving back in— Sue Sylvester deserved to be in jail, no two ways about it— but the urge was still there. “Ugh,” he grunted instead. “Fine! So Lima used to have a drive-in theatre, but then since this hellhole just isn’t allowed to have  _culture_ , it got shut down by some local advocacy groups because apparently it was a hotbed for teenage immorality or whatever. Then in came Breadstix where the theatre used to be,” Kurt said in a rush, wanting to get his explanation out quickly. “And in order to spite the parents who got their beloved drive-in shut down, the adolescents of Allen County collectively decided that Breadstix would be their new hotbed of teenage immorality.”

“Does that mean you and your friends had an orgy after eating?”

“Ew, no!” Kurt cringed and shook his head before gathering the will to continue. “We’re incestuous enough, thanks. That first generation of teenagers held on to their hangout spot even when they had teenagers of their own, and slowly Breadstix became a legitimate family restaurant. The history of the place has been pretty much entirely forgotten, especially after they opened another one in the mall, and now it’s just where you go if you wanna get a meal. But if someone  _is_  going there for date night… maybe it’s like, genetic memory or something, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a sexually active couple who planned a Breadstix date unless they had the house to themselves after.”

Sebastian let out a long, low whistle. “That was a much more involved explanation than I was expecting.”

“Sorry,” Kurt mumbled. “I’m really rambly about really useless stuff sometimes, as I’m sure you’ve gathered. Feel free to shush me whenever, I don’t take offence.”

“Just because it’s not  _useful_  doesn’t mean it isn’t interesting,” Sebastian reassured, and Kurt could just tell that he was smiling one of those smiles that shone with fondness and tended to precede a kiss. “So does Kurt Hummel fancy himself a local historian?”

“Oh no, I don’t think I have the enthusiasm to call myself one,” Kurt demurred. “When I was younger, one of the things I hated most about Lima was how unbearably, unendingly  _plain_  everything is. Or maybe plain isn’t the word so much as bleak. I dunno, I guess I was always just desperate to find out that things here have deeper underlying meaning. For the places I go to be more than they were, for this town to have some flavour and colour beneath all the beige. I think that’s what’s so magical about New York,” Kurt continued, a wistful smile on his face as he thought about home. “Every brick in every building has a story to tell. And even if I never find out what the story is, I  _know_  it’s there, and I know there are more stories being written every day. The city is bigger than itself, and when you become part of it you feel like you’re bigger than yourself too.”

Kurt didn’t get any response for a while; he would have wondered if their line dropped, were it not for the ambient noise still carrying through. Finally, Sebastian cleared his throat and spoke again. “Not the shopping or shows?”

“Well, those are pretty great too,” Kurt conceded.

“I bet,” Sebastian murmured. “So, will you and the she-devil be shopping in Lima tomorrow evening?”

“I feel like you should be aware that Santana considers she-devil a complimentary nickname. And yes, we will.”

“So you probably won’t be willing to drive down here and back to spend the day with me,” Sebastian surmised.

“I’m sorry, hon, but I don’t think my butt could handle another four hours of driving as it is,” Kurt apologized. “I thought you had an essay that needs writing, anyway?”

“Eh, I’m gonna dip out of this black hole of talent and head home. I can get that shit finished by the end of the night, so that opens up my day tomorrow.”

“The infamous Sebastian Smythe doing  _homework_  on a Friday night?” Kurt let out an exaggerated gasp. “What has the world come to?”

“Hey, now! I’ll have you know I hooked up with this really hot guy last night. My body is still recovering from exhaustion.”

“I know the feeling. Strangest coincidence, but I  _also_  hooked up with a really hot guy last night! Now I’ve got a hickey the size of Texas on my ass to show for it.”

“Sounds gnarly.”

“Oh, it is. You better bring some arnica gel when  _you_  drive up to Lima tomorrow.”

Sebastian chuckled lightly. “I can do that.”

“Wonderful,” Kurt said. “What time are you thinking?”

“Is eleven good? We can do lunch and then whatever. But not at Breadstix, their Yelp still scares me.”

“Eleven’s great,” Kurt agreed. “And we actually  _do_  have more than one restaurant in this town, shocking though it may be. But you gotta know that Breadstix is an inevitability for you.”

“We’ll see,” Sebastian said, still sounding dubious. “I’m gonna bid farewell to my buddies now, text me your address.”

“Of course, see you tomorrow, Sebastian.”

“See you!” With that, Sebastian hung up.

Kurt sent his text and got up to stretch before hopping onto the StairMaster for a spell. It took about ten minutes for his mind to drift and start going over the events of the day. It took another twenty to realize they had moved their first date up five days, for no reason other than wanting to see each other sooner, and had done so without a trace of fuss or awkwardness. It took another fifteen to realize that he would be spending the rest of the night with a stupid grin stuck on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Please drop a review if you're still with me! <3


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